Moving Back to my Hometown
Walking in Memphis … again
Leaving home for a new adventure can be just as much a stimulus for growth, introspection, and adventure as moving back to that place years later.
That’s what I discovered after moving back to Memphis, Tennessee, my hometown I’d left six years prior for a military assignment.
The return wasn’t a casual decision at all. It coincided with several major changes to my lifestyle. Transitioning from Soldier to civilian, as inevitable as it is, lends itself to isolation at best and identity crisis at its worst. I’d also ended a marriage just weeks beforehand — a decision that took heavy consideration and changed the way I look at relationships in general.
Shoveled on top of those sharp changes was my transformation over those six years from a young man to a Grown-Ass Man. Indeed, at the time I’d left Memphis, I was living in Section 8 housing and barely getting by on food stamps (welfare). My passion for contributing positively to the world pushed me to elevate my thinking and level up my life. Through extensive travels and work experiences, I developed a deep respect for my self-identity and a healthy awareness of my boundaries and desires—a wild contrast from being content with drinking and playing guitar all day.
But when you’re in the thick of it, you don’t realize how much you’ve changed. I was about to find out real fucking fast.
I returned to general fanfare: my family, many of whom I hadn’t seen or spoken to much since childhood, was delighted to see me. My son was excited to have me around more often. My old friends were more of a mixed bag, but we’ll get to that later.
Almost immediately, the urge to fall into old habits began to tug at me. The reality of my generation being the “new adults” at family gatherings felt surreal and anxiety-inducing. A deep muscle memory was nagging me to find a nice corner to hide in and sink into my own world like when I was younger. New instincts, however, sensed that urge and loudly said, “Fuck that.” I had overcome discomfort, change, and adversity time and time again on Active Duty and beyond … the momentum was too great to stop.
These types of anxieties often take root from insecurities during childhood—behaviors born out necessity, for self-preservation in a perceived (and at times real) hostile environment. Over the years, consistent journaling confirmed to me that more was going on inside my head than just imaginary worlds. For example: the traditional Southern Black family stresses obedience and subordination to elders embodied in responses like “Sir/Ma’am”, similar to how enlisted soldiers address officers in the military. I’ve noticed within myself a reluctance to ask questions and a general feeling of being a burden on others; those behaviors could easily have been a result of my own personality but just as well can result from irrational fear of reprimand and condemnation. After spending time in California where that culture isn’t as prevalent and with a spouse whose family thought it weird and almost offensive when I’d even say “Mrs.”, I was past that whole facade of verbal respect.
Now, at family gatherings, birthdays, holidays, and dinners, I simply spoke to everyone like the humans they are.
That didn’t go over well with much of the older generation.
Partly because some still saw me as a child, but also in part because I address issues rather bluntly. I took liberty in expressing long-held opinions on our family matters, standing by my values, and defending certain styles of child-rearing that ran contrary to how I and our older generations were raised. Many times my unorthodox opinions and way of life went over like a rock, but it’d served me well so far, so I stuck to my beliefs.
When it came to meeting old friends, I didn’t expect much challenge but again was quite surprised. I did find that some guys and girls were very much unchanged; I actually admired that in a buddy of mine who’s remained the same great guy. For some others, though, I found myself no longer tolerable of actions I deem unbecoming of a “friend”: flaking, lying, keeping up drama … things I’ve resolved to get rid of within my circle. One guy, whom I used to be very close to, was even forbidden by his girlfriend from speaking to me due to a minor disagreement he and I had many years ago — disappointing considering he was “excited” I was moving back.
Common remarks on social media (and in real life) were that I had gone Hollywood, suggesting I was too bougie now with my organic jams on freshly-milled bread toasted with solar energy. Or that I simply had “too much money” being able to travel and eat out during a recession and only wanted to show off (as though I worked my ass off just to stay in the hood drinking Bud Light for breakfast and eating Wheat Bran for dinner). I understand now that many people do post things like holiday trips and restaurant food solely for the purpose of bragging or putting on a front … but me, I’m damn near sexually attracted to food and merely like to share that feeling with others. So, I chalked those allegations up to projections and kept it pushin’.
Another source of recurring unease was my reassimilation into the culture. Memphis is a distinct Southern city with a majority Black population (>65%) that is largely traditional and conservative in culture. Leaving the city for California was a huge culture shock to me; coming back was a bit of the same, as I’d become an outsider. Whenever I went out, I got roasted for the way I dress (my style had become more European). I’m talkin’ random drive-by roasting by strangers, store clerks, kids, anyone that could form an insult and throw “lookin ass nigga” on the end. Regaining access to top notch fried chicken and barbecue was well worth the discomfort, though, as I would advise anyone passing through the area. There’s also something magical about sundress season in April on Beale Street … *chef’s kiss*
Dating was undoubtedly different now as well. Making friends and meeting women of Arab, Asian, Hispanic, and African backgrounds helped me further define what I liked and was willing to tolerate. I developed a good sense of patience and awareness that largely mitigated the “thirst” factor. Divorce raised my sensitivity to red flags, which allowed me to avoid most unfavorable situations like plucking (feigned love for free dates/money) or robbery that befall single guys every day. When those senses failed me, my courage to start over from scratch led me to move on quickly without hardening my interior and becoming bitter. Overall I found the dating experience very positive as compared to before since I’d learned how to maneuver and spot like-minded people more easily.
Halfway through the year I experienced a series of highly unsettling personal issues that exacerbated the rift I felt between the old me and the new me, the most disturbing of which was finding out my “father” isn’t actually my father. That issue alone filled me with unprecedented angst; I felt angry on behalf of every “self” I’d ever been, from infancy to adult. Had I not developed such strong resilience and grounded sense of self this anger would’ve proved very destructive. But again, I’d become accustomed to taking leaps and embracing change, and so I came away with a new level of understanding that I simply deserve better.
Over time, my old life gave way to my new life. To my pleasant surprise, some friends and family I’d never spent much time with now proved to be extremely stimulating to talk to and comforting to be around. My son and I developed a stronger bond, confirming my belief that a consistent combination of love and discipline would help shape him into a good man one day. The type of people I’d meet also changed slightly and I ended up making good friends, some temporary and some lasting. Personally, I became even more secure in my “otherness” and mixed street with classy to well-received effect—and didn’t hesitate to roast niggas back if they felt otherwise.
I would highly encourage anyone who’s moved away from where they grew up to reflect on their reasons for leaving and consider a move back, even just temporarily. Depending on why someone left, it could be an opportunity to confront demons or settle any nagging doubts. Our perspective changes as we grow, so there may be new delights to be discovered or hidden truths to uncover. Or maybe the food there is just so damn good that it’s worth risking a stabbing or two.
And for those whom I met that told me you’ve never left the city of Memphis, or the state of Tennessee, or the South … I hope I’ve encouraged you to take a long drive or bus ride to somewhere you’ve never been before just for the fuck of it. You may surprise yourself!
As for me, I got more than what I needed out of going home and feel more than capable taking that leap back into the unknown.
